There is silence in the temple. Lord Steron sits in his chair with his fists gripping the ends of the armrest very tight. In the shadows Gormaur comes marching in. Neither says anything to the other. Brank appears and immediately begins his questions.
"Have you located the girl?"
"Our sources have yet to locate her. We believe that Premderia's Champion might know something but my Faithful have failed in their task."
"And making the Premderians more suspicious of our presence when I told you to not have it so."
"We did use outsiders, my master, but..."
"Our Lord like excuses Steron!" He shouts at him leading to Steron bowing his head before Brank looks to Gormaur. "What have you found?"
"Her scent is somewhere in the Masipolt area near the borders to Vemoit. With her scent are several others in one area. But there is one that remains close with hers."
"Who?"
"The son of Premderia's champion."
"The son?"
"Joran Rideran, General," Gormaur explains and Steron shows displeasure in hearing the voice as he is shaken. Hearing the name makes Brank groan as he makes a fist for a brief second. "No doubt Joran Rideran found her. He brought her to a well hidden area where there are several caves. However they are well secured and under the property of the Premderian genius known as Mildral Rainer. Not even our finest assassins could infiltrate it.
"Allow me to lead a direct assault, Brank..." Steron pleads but Brank holds up his hand and he stops. "Has the Federation dispatched Lorphiel to this matter?"
"Since the last meeting, Federation activity has elevated but she is officially not involved. As a Premderian she is curious. However the Federation Agency has dispatched a unit to this area." Brank doesn't like the news Gormaur shares and turns to Steron.
"You best hurry and find her. We do not need them sniffing." Veron turn his attention to Steron. "Do so quickly or you will find him fixing his ranks."
Brank disappears from his seat. There is a silence for a moment. Gormaur looks over at Steron who stands nervous. Seeing the old Nethrol have such misfortunes continues to be entertaining to him but does not laugh. He senses the presence of someone followed by others. Those that he has felt the presence of before. It does not make him angry but keep a serious demeanor.
"I have business with someone that does not concern you," Gormaur says to him while walking away.
"You should be hunting for her."
"I do what I please. You best remember that, Steron. I only have one job and it is to protect her. Not take orders from you. You best remember that."
Long after Gormaur is out of sight Steron snaps his fingers. Two of his acolytes appear, both wearing a silver medallion with his symbol on it. The weapon of choice they have is a sword that has a black blade. Both of them step forward and gets down on one knee.
"When the time comes, get rid of him."
The two disappear just as fast as they appear. Gormaur journey in the darkness to a different part of the caves. He hears the roar of multiple drazgov's deep within the halls. There is a large spacing used for training. In the training ground are seven black drazgov's. All of them are of average size, nowhere near the size of Gormaur when he takes the form of a drazgov. Yet they are fierce none the less.
Gormaur takes the center of the training ground. He looks at all seven before holding up his hand. When he snaps his fingers, all of them start attacking. He shows his skill by dodging each pounce from the drazgovs. It didn't matter how close their attacks are, he is incredibly fast and so without even getting a scratch on him. All that despite being surrounded at the start.
He holds up his hand and the seven stops. He points to the ground and all seven of them sit. On the outside of the ring are seven versal servants holding a large bowl of raw meat. He snaps his fingers and the seven servants place a bowl in front of each of them.
One shows no patience and takes a step forward. Gormaur snaps his fingers and points down. The black drazgov groan until he stares at him. The stare of Gormaur is enough for them to obey and get down on the floor. He looks to the other six drazgov's. With a whistle, they begin eating. All of them except the one who disobeyed.
He collects his weapons. It consists of a bow with a quiver of arrows. All of which have black tips. His sword is just as black. The blade is somewhat large and curved. A blade that can act as both a weapon and a shield in certain situations. When the six drazgov's finish eating he turns to the one that disobeyed. He whistles and allows the drazgov to eat.
"You still are as impressive as ever." Gormaur pets each one of them and some of them grumble. "You missed quite the show just now with Steron quivering. Brank knows sitting my ass on a chair is not fitting for someone like me. Seeing Steron shake though is always interesting. However, I best be mindful of what I say in front of Steron. He may not be the strongest of us, but is someone not to be under estimated. Even though he is an old fool who has few uses. Which is why I need you with me. A lot of his followers were lingering, and I have an engagement with someone that I wish not for him to know about."
Gormaur's seven black drazgovs let out a growl and that is a simple enough acknowledgment of his words. In the darkness he walks down one of the tunnels and snaps his fingers. All seven Drazgovs stand up. He whistles again and they move down a different tunnel. Gormaur keeps a serious tone in nature but far from concerned in his mission.
It is past midday in the Vemoit region. Near the northern ends of the region, Kalsor and his family continue their journey up the mountain path. For Kalsor it is a familiar sight. While they ride, he stops at the sight of a tree barely visible. Hanging from it there is a noose. His father and brother looks back and sees him staring at it for a moment. The Champion of Premderia takes a breath and rubs his eyes with his thumb and finger. Andor goes back to his side and he looks at his friend.
"It is not who you are anymore. Remember that," Andor tells him.
"I hate seeing it. Yet I keep it there as a reminder of how far I fell from who I was. Every time I see that thing it makes me feel stronger."
The four continue their journey deep within the mountains where the path is narrow and steep. When they did, the journey is not much further. The trees and plants are black and dying. Even the rocks start to show blackness. The cawing of a black Trenin gets their attention before seeing it fly away into the clouds.
"That's not good," Bodgar comments while they walk.
They continue their journey into the dying lands for a short while more. They come to a clearing in the rocks that are well hidden. There is a cave within them. Kalsor holds up his hand and they stop, not surprised by what he asks. He walks forward with a dark presence lurking. None of them are concerned with it and wait. Kalsor steps forward but maintains a distance. Hearing the growl from beneath, he sees Gormaur's eyes deep within. That doesn't shaken Kalsor's resolve.
"It has been a while since we have crossed paths," Kalsor tells him and Gormaur stays in the confines of his cave grumbling. "You don't wish to step into the light?"
"How are your scars?" Gormaur asks him.
Kalsor is happy to oblige by his words. He unzips his coat and unbuttons his shirt. On the left side of his chest going diagonally across down to the right side of his abdomen wall, there are three claw marks. All of them an inch wide and quite dark in color. Kalsor looks down and rubs them with his hand for a brief moment.
"They healed," Kalsor says to him before concealing them once more. "Have your bones healed?"
"They healed. Took much longer than yours I am sure," he replies before looking to his companions. "You didn't want to meet alone?"
"They wouldn't let me."
Kalsor looks down at his hands and watches as Gormaur's claws slowly begin to extend out. The Premderian reply by putting his hand on the handle of his sword. He didn't grip it firmly but tap the bottom of it with his finger. Gormaur shows a smirk and retracts his claws back leading to Kalsor lowering his guard.
"I believe the last time you were here was three years ago," Gormaur tells him as he starts to pace back and forth in the space they have. "The stench of alcohol and the scent of women were fresh on you. I also remember a noose hanging from a tree."
"And I remember you setting upon some teachers with a class of students on the main road. You killed the two teachers and were ready to feast upon children."
"Perhaps if you were not so drunk you'd have realized that I was saving those children from the hardships of what others have suffered. Then again maybe I should be thanking you. You'd made me realize how there are still some among your kind that are still quite strong despite submitting to the Federation."
"And if it wasn't for you, I'd be hanging from that noose. So our crossing paths benefited us both," Kalsor says in confidence. "Still keeping to your word and not hunting until we finish our business?"
"I am true to my word. What about your son? Are you still keeping him on a tight leash?" He asks and Kalsor is quiet. "I thought so. Acruna is truly an interesting thing. It is a wonder what he will be like when he truly loses all control. How long do you think you can hide the truth from him?"
"Enough," Andor says and Gormaur's Drazgovs emerge and they stand ready to fight, but Gormaur hold his hand up and point to his left.
"Go deal with the insects watching us, Gormaur instructs and the seven leave to begin their hunt. "It has been some time since we have all been gathered here," he says as he looks at the four before looking to Bodgar. "How are you holding up?"
"Just one day a time," he says while having a small cough.
"I feel like we might be interested in the same thing," Gormaur explains as his nostrils flair up sensing a certain smell coming from Kalsor. "Her scent is upon you," he says as he sniffs a few more times. "You have seen her, haven't you?"
"Who?" Kalsor asks.
"The little girl," he says with a small laugh. "Don't play a simpleton, Champion of Premderia. I know you too well for that. A girl with dark red hair, your son's age I imagine. They would be a perfect match for one another," he tells them. Gormaur sees Kalsor's fist come loose before tightening it once more. "I guess I was right about my theory. He found her," Gormaur says smiling. "Now that is truly interesting. I wonder how much trouble they will be together. Not that they weren't a year ago."
"What do you want with her?" Kalsor asks.
"Me? Well, I am sworn to protect her. Yet with the company I am around, I felt like I would fail. That is why I allowed her to escape. Good thing I wasn't the one who lost her. I could care less if she is found or not as long as she is safe. Seeing Steron get lectured about his blunders is amusing."
"Why is she so important to you? She is but a scared child," Bodgar comments.
"That you will have to find out on your own, my giant friend."
There is the howling of his seven drazgov's in the woods. Kalsor and his colleagues become uncomfortable. He draws his sword while the others get ready. The black drazgov's emerge from the woods. They snarl at the sight of them but Gormaur snaps his fingers and all seven sit. One brings forth two medallions belonging to Steron's acolytes stained in blood, giving them to Gormaur.
"A good hunt I hope," Kalsor says before putting his sword away.
"An easy hunt."
Kalsor's family does the same by lowering their weapons. Gormaur snaps his fingers and the seven Drazgovs proceed inside the cave walking passed them. While Gormaur walk by he didn't even look at them. He disappears into the darkness of the cave not saying a word. The four turn their back to them for a brief moment but turn back around when Gormaur says something.
"I will offer you some free advice to the both of you."
"What is that?" Kalsor questions
"Keep that girl as protected as you can. What Steron has done is something I did not approve of from the start. These experiments he does, are something that are dangerous. Even I fear he will not be able to control what he has started.
"What experiments?" Kalsor asks.
"Something far worse than you might think. He is more clever than you think," Gormaur tells him before going back into the darkness of the caves. "Remember my words, Champion of Premderia."
Kalsor stands there while his family looks at his backside. Something is disturbing by what Gormaur says to them. They didn't leave at first but do so. Their minds think about Gormaur's warning as they hike back the way they came from.
In the deep confines of Premderian where thousands of caves and tunnels connect, Steron sees to the training of several nethrol wearing the medallion with his mark. While he oversees them from an upper level, Gormaur, and the seven black drazgov's return. All of them stop and move out of the way. Gormaur steps forward with the brown leather bag. He did not hesitate and toss the two medallions on the floor. Nothing is said between them as Gormaur and his companions walk away back into the dark.